The Blessing Arrives
by Ib Yo
Summary: Hulda Ankarcrona, later known as Queen Gwendoline, has come to Kippernium with her father on a trading trip, her 3rd visit. Certain things seem to bother her-she feels like her life runs in a pattern. What happened before? There is a story to be uncovered
1. Chapter 1: The Blessing Arrives

Chapter 1: The Blessing Arrives

A huge crowd of onlookers gathered to welcome _The Blessing_ to Kippernium. People craned their necks, anticipating its arrival, and the arrival of its owner, the good Sir Ingwar Ankarcrona. Somewhere in the front lines of the crowd, a voice broke out.

"She is here! I can _see_ her!"

Noise broke out in the crowd as the people pushed each other about to catch a glimpse of the mast that had just appeared at the horizon. A ship had appeared in the distance, its huge white sails billowing gracefully.

Soon enough, _The Blessing_ was moored and the gangplank was lowered. Workers stationed themselves to throw and catch the goods that would be sold in the village markets. Captain Ingwar himself appeared and the noise and cheering exploded all over the docks.

Among the noise and excitement, a woman edged her way down the plank and stepped onto the ground. She walked away from the crowd and kept on going until she found a quiet place. She stood and gazed at the blue sea beyond the Kippernium coastline and remembered the last time she had done exactly the same. Hulda Ankarcrona, whom we shall call Gwendoline, disliked noise and excitement, and most of all, she disliked the creeping sensation that this was déjà vu.

Gwendoline gulped and turned around. The wind blew her fair hair and long skirts. She stepped delicately over a broken box of kippers and started back towards the hustle and bustle surrounding _The Blessing_, to where her father would be now, instructing the workers while at the same time chatting with old acquaintances.

Gwendoline quietly approached her father, who was hollering away at the workers.

"Father," she said softly. Her eyes widened and she ducked just in time, missing a big crate that had just been tossed over her head.

"Gwendoline, m'dear," said her father kindly. "I think that you should go ahead to our reservations. Everything is quite excited around here…" they both ducked as some more goods were passed. "You know what I mean."

"Alright Father, I shall see you soon. " Gwendoline kissed her father's cheek. "You have my blessing."

"Good-bye darling." Captain Ingwar called fondly after the retreating graceful figure.

Gwendoline walked down the quiet village streets. Everyone must be at the dock, she thought. She was much absorbed with her own musings and walked in a straight line, not minding her surroundings much. Gwendoline scarcely bothered to survey the world around her unless she was somewhere deep in nature. She could sit for hours at a time in the cool green forests surrounding her home, but could hardly last a few hours in the hustle and bustle of a village at its busiest hour.

Gwendoline walked slowly. She knew where she was going. Her father always rented a large cottage from a man named Gum. It was situated at the end of Kipper Street at a strategic distance from the shops and markets. It was not far now and the houses Gwendoline was passing showed the prosperity and taste of their owners—not that Gwendoline bothered to look.

A sudden noise somewhere made Gwendoline jump slightly. She turned slowly in a circle, taking in her surroundings. A sudden thought of some sort came to her mind and her eyes widened, her mouth became a grim slash. She turned and began to hurry away.

_But wait!_ She stopped, a slight smile returning to her face. _Everyone is gone to the dock!_

Possessed by this new sense of freedom, Gwendoline sped on, her hands thrown to either side, her skirts fluttering. She stopped at a house where she saw a small child. He was holding a box and raised his eyebrows slightly as she came flying.

"A sweet precious thing you are, are you not?" Gwendoline said softly, as if she was explaining something to him. She kneeled down and hugged him. The little child yelped.

"KIDNAPPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A thin old lady came bustling out the door, drying her hands on her checkered and floured apron.

"Now, now, you…" she stopped when she saw the young lady.

Gwendoline hugged the child closer, despite all his protest. "I do love all children, my lady."

"Ah," the old lady chuckled. "I can see that." She walked over to the two of them. "Now young man, stop your hollering. This good lady here is a good lady."

Gwendoline laughed softly and patted the little boy's cheek. She pulled a sweet out from a pocket and gave it to him. Then, she rose slowly and bowed her head. "I must be going now. He is a sweet thing. You have my blessing."

The old lady chuckled again. "Sweet! Bah, you should see the mischievous little thing! His father tries to discipline him…"

"And what of his mother," Gwendoline asked smiling.

"Oh, I am not his mother, bless you. Just a housekeeper," saying this, the old lady took the boy's hand. "Now let us be off. It is time you were bathed. Your father will be home soon for lunch."

Gwendoline watched them walk off, smiling to herself. "That is not what I meant," she whispered and laughed softly. Then she sighed. She turned and ran to her father's cottage.

"We're going to have a good trade this time, I assure you, I can feel it in me bones. Remember Magnus? Always had good trades with him around," Captain Ingwar chuckled reminiscently.

"You always say that, and you always have good trades, Father," Gwendoline said lightly.

"True," Captain Ingwar said, without any regard to modesty. "Now then," he said rising. "These good bones could use some rest. We'll be having some company, pet, Magnus wants to come over and have an old chat." He looked at Gwendoline questioningly.

"You have my blessing, Father," Gwendoline replied, bowing her head. "I shall help Marianna prepare. Is there anything in particular that you would like…?"

Captain Ingwar cocked his head. "Ah you know girl! Yes I would want some lobster soup, and better you make it and not Marianna, she can do all the rest mind. I don't want you to spoil your hands." And he left.

Gwendoline shook her head sadly. She went to the kitchens and got started on the meal. Poor Marianna could not do everything, but even she would not admit it. So, like the elves that helped the cobbler mend his shoes, Gwendoline quietly started this and that and made sure that things would be easy for Marianna when she got back from visiting her family.

Marianna, the Ingwar' maid, was from Kippernium. She had come to Gwendoline's house when both girls were young; Marianna had been just ten, and Gwendoline, nine. They had become close as they grew up together, but Marianna always sorely missed her old home. So, every time Captain Ingwar got his ship ready to sail to Kippernium, Marianna got her bags packed. Gwendoline, who loved her homeland as much as Marianna loved hers, seldom went with them. She had gone once as a small girl back when her mother was alive, and once again after when she had grown. This was her third visit.

Gwendoline was stirring the broth for her soup when Marianna entered the kitchens. The black-haired lady removed her hat and placed it with her bag on a chair.

"Oh Gwendoline," her face glowed with excitement. "Ma and Pa are fine, knowing that you always ask, and my sister Thelma has a new baby girl! Is that not exciting? Guess what she named her!"

Gwendoline smiled and said softly. "It is exciting news, gentle heart. Whatever did she name the child?"

"Marianna!" Marianna squealed with delight. She burst into laughter.

Gwendoline turned to the door and then back to her friend. "Now do hush Marianna. Father has decided to meet with someone his first night and wants a grand meal prepared. Now I have started on the soup…"

Marianna stopped and gave her an admonishing look.

"Father requested that I make it, sweet soul," Gwendoline explained kindly.

Marianna looked doubtful and walked up to the counter. "Whoever chopped up these carrots? I was planning to do that myself right when I got back."

Gwendoline pretended to look innocent, then turned back to her boiling broth.

A little before dinnertime, Marianna and Gwendoline set the table and arranged the parlor.

"We should need some flowers," Marianna said anxiously, poking and prodding everything to make sure it was okay.

"Calm down, Marianna," Gwendoline said, in a commanding but gentle voice. "_I_ shall get the flowers and you run along to Thelma's. You will not be needed, and I shall save you some dinner."

Marianna smiled gratefully, there was nothing more that she wanted and it showed on her face. Without hesitation, because there was nothing else left to be done anyway—she had checked everything—Marianna gave Gwendoline a warm hug and skipped away.

Gwendoline strolled into the garden behind the cottage. She could see the sea a short distance away, and the great ships floating gracefully along. She really ought to have hurried, as the company was going to arrive shortly, but Gwendoline walked along slowly and heedlessly. She bent and picked a flower, held it up to her nose and took a deep breath. She looked down at the speckled red and pale blue petals of the blossom. Perfect, she thought with a smile. She picked a basket and took it to the parlor.

Captain Ingwar was seated at the table watching Gwendoline as she artfully twisted the last of her flowers around the arm of an empty chair. She looked up and smiled softly at her work. The flowers were placed tactfully everywhere. There was a bowl in the parlor adjacent on the table, vases full of the delicate blooms, the table was scattered with them, and even the chairs were decorated by their simple and graceful beauty.

"Sure smells nice in here," Captain Ingwar commented. "Good job."

"Thank you Father," Gwendoline said, bowing her head. "I appreciate your admirable admiration."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Both father and daughter turned.

Captain Ingwar nodded and Gwendoline walked over to the door slowly.

"Welcome," she said after opening the door and glancing at her visitors.

There were two of them. One was a tall, slightly imposing looking man with black hair and beard. He was dressed dignifiedly in furs and silks. His cold gray eyes moved around slowly. Next to him was a toddler with the same hair and eye color of his father, but a completely different demeanor and facial expression. He turned his wide eyes to Gwendoline curiously.

Gwendoline smiled slightly, pleased. Wonderful, now she would not have to sit politely at the table, listening to the endless discussions of two very successful merchants. Gwendoline was so extremely fond of little children and this one had a sense of knowingness that tickled her greatly. She opened the door wider.

"Please enter with my blessing," she said graciously.

"Thank you, Gwendoline," Magnus Breech said with dignity. He wiped his feet on the mat and entered. Gwendoline watched him go and then leaned down.

"Come now beloved," she said softly, taking the child's tiny hand. Recognition dawned on the child's face, but before he could say anything about kidnappers, Gwendoline raised a finger to her lips, hushing him with a smile. She turned and stepped into the parlor.

Magus Breech had taken a seat across from Captain Ingwar. They were both talking now in a very business-like tone. Gwendoline advanced slowly with the little boy.

Captain Ingwar looked over at his daughter and noticed him. He turned back to the merchant Breech. "Delightful! You brought your son along, delightful. Whatever _was_ his name?"

"Gunther," Magnus said gruffly.

Gwendoline looked down at Gunther. Gunther looked back questioningly.

"What?" he asked.

"So, how goes this time's trade, Captain Ingwar?" Magnus asked, turning back to the old trader.

"Ah," he said with relish. He turned to Gwendoline and nodded before resuming his discussion with Magnus.

Gwendoline took Gunther into the kitchen with her. She opened the cabinets and started to look through them.

"So," she said, perusing through a selection of baking sodas. "What is it that you like to eat?"

Behind her, Gunther considered the question.

"Well," he said slowly. "Father likes to eat truffles and…"

"Bless you my little baby," Gwendoline said turning around. Gunther flinched but before he could say anything, Gwendoline went on. "I asked what _you_ like, gentle heart, not what your father likes." She rose and picked up a cake from the counter.

"Here you are," she said, giving it to Gunther. She turned again and picked up a dish and took it to the table.

Captain Ingwar stopped talking when he saw Gwendoline and Gunther.

"I had to bring Gunther," Magnus explained. "Gertrude—the housekeeper—was away and I would not dream of leaving him alone." He happened to glance at Gwendoline. It was a penetrating glare.

Gwendoline stepped forward and placed the platter on the table. "You may begin," she said, "with my blessing." She lifted Gunther and took him to the parlor. She sat him on her lap and was silent a moment as she listened to the renewed conversation between the two men in the dining area.

"Now sweet heart," Gwendoline said, looking down at him. "You have lived here in Kippernia all your life, have you not?" She smiled dreamily. "Scandinavia is a most beautiful place, desirous to any heart. There the trees grow huge and are everywhere. And it is so peaceful and quiet…" Gunther did not seem to be paying attention.

"I should like you to come back home with me. Now how would you like that?"

Gunther's eyes widened in alarm.

Magnus had risen from his chair. "We really should be going now, Captain Ingwar. It was a most delightful pleasure," he turned to the parlor. "Gunther."

Gunther ran immediately to his father and looked up at him.

"It is time to go home son," Magnus said. "Come now." The merchant turned and walked to the door, leaving Gunther to follow.

Gwendoline rose and swept over to the little boy. She bent down and kissed his forehead. "Farewell, gentle child. Remember, you always have my blessing." She watched him for a second, as if requesting something.

"Gunther, come son," Magnus said from the door.

"Good-bye Magnus! Was great to see you!" Captain Ingwar called heartily as the two walked away.

Magnus waved back once and then they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2: De Ja Vu

Chapter 2: Déjà vu?

It had been a few days since _The Blessing_ had arrived at Kippernia. Sir Karl Ingwar had been very busy these past days and was now getting ready for the sail back home.

Gwendoline was in the kitchen with Marianna, who was bustling about in the best of spirits.

"Now you have to agree that children are the best things ever," she said as she put some fish to roast.

"I could not have agreed with something more, Marianna," Gwendoline said softly. She turned to the window to observe the slight rain that was falling. "We are to go to the Royal Palace today, and you to your sister's. A fitting final day for you, gentle heart."

Marianna smiled fondly.

Captain Ingwar came into the house humming triumphantly.

"I see that trades have gone well, Father," Gwendoline said, bowing her head.

"Yes, love, these bones here never get it wrong, now do they?" her father winked. He produced a number of parcels. "These are presents for the royal family."

"There really isn't much of a royal family anymore," Marianna interrupted, coming in, "Just young King Caradoc. His mother and father are both dead."

"He has my blessing," Gwendoline whispered, sympathetically.

"Right," said Captain Ingwar, looking down at the parcels. "Then I suppose there isn't much use for the more decorative ones of these." He put down all of the parcels except one.

"Then there is Sir Theodore," Marianna continued.

"Ah yes the old knight," the old trader chuckled. "Stoic fellow, him. I like." He turned to his daughter. "We shall be leaving for the castle late in the afternoon."

Gwendoline nodded.

"I shall pick something for the knight," Captain Ingwar said, walking to the door. He waved and left.

Late in the afternoon, when the heat of the sun had begun to die and the village was beginning to quiet down, Captain Ingwar and his daughter, mounted on two wonderful steeds and waved to by the remaining villagers, went on their way to the royal castle.

At this time of day, the castle was a beautiful sight. Its tan bricks and all the greenery around it was bathed in a subtle gold light. Gwendoline thought it looked magnificent, its flags waving welcomingly. Though this was the third time Gwendoline had come, it was the first time she had gone to the castle. The gates opened and a man in armor came rushing out. He was short and quite round with red hair and whiskers. He raised a trumpet and blew it soundly.

"Welcome, Captain Ingwar," he said, lowering his trumpet. "His majesty awaits you impatiently."

Captain Ingwar chuckled. He turned to Gwendoline. "This is my daughter."

The knight nodded and Gwendoline nodded back.

"You may proceed this way," the man said, pointing his hand and walking towards the castle. Gwendoline and her father followed. They stopped at a stable where they dismounted. The knight took the horses by the reins and led them to the stables.

"Unsaddles these and give them some water," he directed a man in overalls.

"Yes Sir Ivan," the man said, nodding. He took over the reins.

"Please, come with me," Sir Ivan said. They walked up to the castle doors and entered. Past the doors was a huge room. On one side, there were three thrones lined up on an elevated platform. The rest of the room was rather empty. Several long tables were lined up end to end and the walls were adorned with tapestries.

"Well good afternoon!" a merry voice rung out. Captain Ingwar led Gwendoline to the platform and the both stood before it politely.

"And a wonderful afternoon to you, your majesty," Captain Ingwar said. Gwendoline bowed her head.

The king sat on the middle throne. He was young and brown haired. To his right was a tall, thin man wearing armor. He had black hair and a thick moustache, summed up with a rather imposing look. The knight who had brought them now stood on the king's other side.

"We have brought you some presents," Captain Ingwar said, stepping forward. He handed Sir Ivan a rolled up tapestry. Sir Ivan and the other knight opened it up for the king to see.

"Delightful, simply delightful," the king said, smiling. His reaction to the rest of the gifts was mostly the same.

Finally, Captain Ingwar picked up the last parcel. Removing its paper covering with a flourish, he announced, "And for Sir Theodore—"

The tall knight raised his eyebrows slightly.

Gwendoline suppressed a smile as he took a look at his gift.

"It is a portrait of your handsome countenance!" Captain Ingwar cried happily.

Sir Ivan peered eagerly past Sir Theodore's arm at the portrait. His expression was something to behold.

"That! Well done, perfect. Sir Theodore, how handsome you do look!" Sir Ivan could barely talk for howling with laughter.

Gwendoline pressed a hand to her mouth and turned a little to one side.

Captain Ingwar looked slightly disappointed. "What? You do not like it?"

Sir Theodore rolled up the portrait and looked up. "It is a fine gift. I thank you humbly, Captain Ingwar." He gave Sir Ivan a pointed look.

Captain Ingwar's face broke into a smile.

"Well, well!" King Caradoc said, smiling. "I am delighted with all the gifts you have brought us, good merchant. When do you plan to leave?"

"Tomorrow before sunrise," Captain Ingwar said, bowing to show his thanks.

"Tomorrow?" cried the king. "Why so early?"

"We have been here a few days, your majesty. It will take a voyage of three full weeks to return to Scandinavia, sire."

"Oh," said the King, dropping his head sadly. "Well, I would be most honored if you could stay for dinner."

"No sir, it would be I who would be honored," the merchant replied.

Servants bustled about, bearing trays of various delicacies. Captain Ingwar was obviously enjoying himself very much. He sat with the king and his knights and advisors, talking and laughing. Gwendoline was sitting farther away, quietly watching her plate. Her mind was back in Scandinavia. She was not sitting on a bench surrounded by noisy people, she was sitting on a log, with green everywhere, clouded by soft mist. Gwendoline smiled to herself. A woman with a bawling baby walked by.

Gwendoline looked up with interest. She rose and approached the lady. "There now sweet child, calm your heart," she said, caressing the baby's face softly with her finger. The little red headed girl stopped and watched her with wide eyes.

"Now, now," Gwendoline said softly. "That is good, gentle creature, hush now."

The lady looked up at Gwendoline, beaming. "Yes, she is generally a well-behaved girl. It is just this noise and hustle that she does not like."

Gwendoline smiled knowingly.

"I am the chamberlain's wife," the lady explained.

"It was wonderful to meet you," Gwendoline said, lowering her head. "And now you should both be off, gentle ones, or the little child may again be disturbed."

The lady nodded, smiling, and went off. "Milly!"

Gwendoline sat down again and was reabsorbed in her own thoughts. Her father approached her, calling back,

"You got your wish, your majesty!"

_The Blessing _did not leave the next day. In fact, it stayed for more than a week. Gwendoline watched days later as the beloved ship set off, without her. She watched it go until the masts disappeared. As her eyes rested on the blue and gray horizon, they filled with tears.

The castle was a happy home however, and the new queen felt that she could have felt much worse than she did. After returning from the dock, she walked down the halls, taking everything in. The lady she had met her first day at the castle came rushing towards her.

"Good morning, my queen," she said, grinning quite widely. "I will be your lady-in-waiting." She stopped and smiled.

Queen Gwendoline smiled slightly and bowed her head sadly.

"Come now, I shall show you your new quarters!" the lady said excitedly.

The two ladies must have sat together for more than an hour but Queen Gwendoline did not hear much of what the lady had said. She felt blank.

"And that is why our horseshoes are never silver," the lady said, laughing.

Queen Gwendoline smiled. "Adeline, I feel very welcome. The people of Kippernium are gentle souls," the queen bowed her head. "I thank you for your warm reception."

Lady Adeline laughed, "Well of course we would welcome you warmly, Queen."

Gwendoline could not count the number of times in the past years that she had decided to slip away to the village—the number of times she had decided _and_ failed to do so. She stared out the window at the falling rain, thinking about how repetitive her life was. She looked over at the crib. A small child lay inside.

Gwendoline got up and walked towards the crib. She reached down and stroked the sleeping child's head. "My poor Cuthbert," she whispered. At that moment he again awoke and began to cry.

Cuthbert had taken right after his father in appearance. He was a sickly child, though, and not very playful. Gwendoline worried about him a lot. She worried about herself a lot too, wondering whether the pattern of her life would repeat itself completely. That would mean leaving this home, too...


	3. Chapter 3: Two Squires

Chapter 3: Two Squires

"You, Cuthbert, are vary, vary, mean to poor Dahlia," Princess Lavinia said, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head.

"Dahlia," Prince Cuthbert retorted, "is just a silly toy."

"Now my sweets," Queen Gwendoline said walking in.

"Mother, Cuthbert is being mean," Lavinia said, pointing at her older brother.

Cuthbert blew a raspberry at her.

Outside, the two squire knights were having a heated duel.

"Take that you biscuit weevil," the red headed girl said, hitting her practice sword hard on her opponent's.

"Just wait, elephant ears," the other squire retorted. He flicked his sword. Jane tripped and found herself on the ground with Gunther's practice sword pointed at her neck.

"Yield," he said, smiling smugly.

"Maggots," Jane whispered through clenched teeth.

"You both fought admirably."

Jane and Gunther both turned swiftly. There the queen stood, smiling.

"I am proud of you both. You will make splendid knights."

Jane rose and curtsied. "Thank you, your majesty."

Queen Gwendoline smiled and left.

"Half of it is true anyway," Gunther remarked.

"Yah!" Jane lunged at him.

"Son."

Gunther and Jane both stopped again, at an unfortunate moment for poor Jane, who again found herself on the ground. Gunther quickly said,

"Yield!"

"Maggots," Jane said, a little louder this time.

"Son," the merchant approached them. "There are errands to be done. Come now." He turned and left.

"Walking off are we?" Jane asked.

"Jane," Gunther said, irritated. "I have to go."

Gunther stepped back and wiped his forehead. He looked at the empty cart and sighed with relief. He stepped back, brought his foot down on a stick and caught it as it flew up.

"Cart done," he said, disposing of the branch. "Now to Jane."

"Not yet boy," the Merchant said, coming out of his shop.

"I am done, sir," he looked pointedly at the empty cart.

"Not quite," Magnus said, looking absent. He bent a little and looked at his son. "I am going on an errand for a few days. The workers need to be paid. There are only two of them, you know that, and you know their wages." Magnus reached into his pocket and gave Gunther a key. "You are to pay them. There is a box in my office--"

"In your private office?" Gunther asked proudly and yet slightly disbelievingly.

"Yes," Magnus said slowly. "In my private office. You are to touch nothing boy. Just take the money from the metal box on the desk."

Gunther nodded, smiling. Magnus surveyed him doubtfully.

"I am putting all my confidence in you, boy. See to it that it is not misplaced."

"You can count on me, Father."

Gunther returned to the castle in high spirits. He whistled as he passed Jane, who was on sentry duty. He backed up and smiled at her.

"Well hello Jane. Fine day, is it not?"

"Looking smug, are we not, biscuit weevil?" Jane said. She raised an eyebrow.

Gunther resumed his whistling.

"Well?" Jane demanded. "What happened? Every day is not a 'fine day.' Not to you at least."

"Well if you must know," Gunther said proudly. "I have been given a very important duty." He started to walk away.

"What?" Jane asked. She took off towards the stables.

"And I have been very responsible, so I think that I am ready to be given an important task."

"Jane," Sir Theodore said, without turning around from Augustus, his horse. "I have not given Gunther any important task."

"You have not?" Jane asked. "I mean—" she began to fumble.

"But," Sir Theodore said, turning around. "I shall give you one."

Jane's face brightened.

"You shall go and finish your sentry duty, and then you will polish every sword and shield in our armory," Sir Theodore said, turning back to his horse. "The knightly parade is coming up and this is a very high honor."

Needless to say, Jane did not look _exactly_ thrilled. She sighed.

"Right, Sir Theodore," and she turned and left.

Sir Theodore did not turn until she was gone. He watched the retreating figure become smaller and smaller and chuckled to himself.

Gunther strode down the village street and walked into his house. He looked around the sitting room. There was no one there. The adjacent dining parlor was also empty, as was the lounge, the back terrace, and the garden. Gunther stepped up the stairs quietly. He gave a cursory glance over the insides of the bedrooms through there open doors. A slow smile crept onto his face. His father was really and truly gone, and he, Gunther, was going to be in charge.

_For a couple of day, but anyways._

Gunther went back downstairs and strolled over to the door of his father's private office. Gunther had always wanted to go in there, though he had never dared to try. His brain recognized what going into his father's private office meant just as much as it recognized would happen if he poked his hand into the fireplace.

Slowly, Gunther removed the key from his pocket and plunged it into the keyhole. He opened the door slowly, peered into the room, then entered.

The room had a strange dustiness to it; even the air seemed somewhat cloudy. The sunlight that entered from the two tall French windows on the right wall swirled and swished as it fell over the desk and chair on the right side of the room. Other than the right wall, every other wall was covered with bookshelves that stretched from the floor to the very high ceiling. Awed, Gunther walked quietly over the somewhat faded looking carpet towards the bookshelves. He examined the titles of the big leather bound books. Many had no titles at all, but the ones that did mostly had something to do with trade.

Gunther removed a thick book called _One hundred and Five Signs That Show Prosperity. _Curious, Gunther flipped the book open. His mouth opened slightly as he skimmed through it.

_Physical Appearance: A well fed looking person is surely a rich and successful one. A big man has to be bigger than EVERYONE ELSE, in EVERY WAY._

_Lavishness: Lavishness is an extremely good trait for a wealthy person._

_Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick: It is very important not to speak too softly, though, and the stick should be as big as possible, metaphorically speaking. Everyone must bow to a powerful person, including employees, family members, and other associates._

_Rank: Try to establish yourself with the ones everyone talks about._

Gunther frowned and looked at the name of the author. _T. F. Roosewell with Sea Captain Gus, professionals in the area. _Gunther stuffed the book back and began searching rather moodily for the metal money box. Really, people could write something useful once in a while, could they not?

An odd aroma floated out of the desk drawer when Gunther pried it open. The base of the drawer looked slightly dusty. There was a dried out flower sitting atop many papers and folders. It had once been pale blue and red and was unlike any other flower. Gunther recognized it immediately. It was a now rare native that could be found in the foliage near the coast, if one looked hard enough. Gunther wondered why his father had kept it. He knew that his father was allergic to them, they gave him a bad headache and a stuffy nose after a long while around them.

Gunther put the flower on the desk and perused through the other contents of the dusty drawer. He was about to close it again when something colorful caught his eye. He pulled a piece of canvas from the drawer and held it in front of him. His eyebrows rose up, a perplexed and thoughtful expression on his face.

It was a portrait of a woman, standing at a fence with the sea behind her. Gunther recognized the area as part of the land behind his house. The woman was wearing a pink dress. At the back of the portrait, a hand written message was neatly written.

_Hulda, after our wedding day, the last of June, 807_

_The Blessing will depart in three days. I am myself engaged, while this portrait is being painted, in a lively conversation with Captain Ingwar, who insists for me to call him less formally. Captain Ingwar says that he feels it in his bones that today is a great day. __I feel so myself._

_Magnus Breech,_

_This portrait is a gift for me_

Gunther squinted to read the last words. It seemed as if someone had tried to scratch them out. He turned the portrait over and again examined it. So this was his mother? She was not unlike the Queen in looks, so much so that she may have passed for the Queen's younger sister. She had a regal way of holding herself, but her facial expression and eyes were very gentle. Gunther had always imagined that his mother might look something like himself.

Somehow, looking at the portrait made Gunther feel a vague disappointment. He quickly scolded himself for it. As he stared at the woman in the picture he noticed that she seemed to have something on her face. Gunther's eyebrows rose in curiosity as he examined the lady's—his mother's—upper lip. It seemed slightly different in color as compared to the rest of the face, almost as if something had been scratched off. It occurred to Gunther that something had stuck to the portrait and his father, attempting to fix it, had scratched a little of the paint off.

A heavy knock from somewhere outside the office reminded Gunther what he was supposed to be doing. He found that the metal box was right there on a bookshelf and he went and got some coins out of it before going to answer the door. He walked towards the door of the office and was about to push it open when he remembered. His heart dropped like a rock into, it felt, somewhere in his stomach. He hurried around the office, clearing things off the desk and fixing the books on the shelves. The old desk drawer creaked rustily as he shoved it shut. During every second that passed as he worked, Gunther imagined his father bursting into the house and calling for him angrily.

"Gunther!"

Gunther dropped a one foot thick book in his toes. Was it just his imagination?

"Coming!" Gunther shouted. He grabbed the portrait and ran out. He turned his head sharply left and right and, finding a hiding place for the precious picture that he did not mean to hand over just now—as he had only seen his mother after about a hundred years, Gunther slipped it behind a framed picture and hung it back on the wall. Then, he dashed to the door.

"I am coming!" he called, slightly squeakily in his nervousness. He yanked the door open, thinking—because it does often happen that at the peak of horror you think the happiest thoughts and add to yourself _you wish_—thinking that he may have just imagined someone actually calling his name.

The heavy door swung open and a person with red hair was standing there. Gunther had never, ever, ever, felt so happy to see his fellow knight-in-training.

"Hello Gunther…" Jane looked at him curiously.

"Hello," Gunther said, holding back a sigh of relief.

Jane raised an eyebrow. "You look breathless. Were you cleaning up your father's office?"

Gunther's eyes widened instantly in shock and he almost gasped, but Jane was still talking.

"Because you know, the hardest place in the world to clean is your father's office—" Jane paused and added thoughtfully. "At least if your father is a Chamberlain. I was helping my mother clean her quarters and I decided it would satisfy my interest _and_ assist my mother if I cleaned the office."

By now Jane had entered the house and Gunther had numbly followed.

"There were papers _everywhere_! And I was not sure which ones were important and which ones were not so what was that really important thing you had to do?"

Gunther blinked.

"You know, you told me when I was standing sentry."

"Oh," Gunther edged over towards a portrait of a plump man dressed in furs standing in front of a ship. He shuffled his feet slightly. "It was merely an errand for my father."

"Oh…" Jane said, though her curiosity did not seem appeased.

Gunther was seriously afraid that she had been spying on him. He glanced for a fraction of a second at the portrait over his left shoulder.

Jane squinted at it. "What a horrid—I mean, um, er—_well painted_ portrait."

"This?" Gunther asked, gesturing at the picture behind him.

Jane nodded. "Oh, by the way, I came here because Sir Ivan told me to get you. He said that you had an evening class."

Gunther remembered and nodded. "Thank you," he turned and started for the stairs. Jane stood right where she was. "Erm…"

Jane looked up.

Gunther decided to say nothing and went towards the stairs.

When Gunther came back down, armed with a bag full of heavy books, Jane was still in the entrance parlor. She was looking at the portrait of his father, her nose wrinkled slightly. She turned when he stepped off the last stair.

"You have a lot of nice paintings in here," Jane commented. She gestured vaguely behind her, "I like the portrait of the fruit bowl best." She reached forward and touched the white mast of the ship. Gunther jumped forward, crying 'no!'

Both squires stood as the frame slipped from its place and crashed onto the floor. Jane gasped.

"Look at what you have done!" Gunther said exasperatedly, dropping to his knees and frantically sorting broken frame pieces and canvas.

"I am so, so, sorry Gunther," Jane said, squatting down to help. She reached towards the pile of fragments.

"No," Gunther hissed. "You go back to the castle, I will meet you there."

Jane frowned. She looked down at the pile and saw something that caught her interest. "What is this?" she asked, pulling out another canvas from the pile, one painted with bright blues and greens and pinks. Gunther made to snatch it from her, but Jane unconsciously moved the portrait away as she examined it.

"Jane," Gunther groaned, desperate and annoyed. He turned quickly and glanced at the open door and then back to Jane. "Jane! _Give it to me!_"

Jane had turned the portrait over and read the message on the back. "Oh…" she said softly as Gunther snatched the canvas from her hands.

"Your mother is so beautiful," Jane said, sounding surprised.

"Of course she is," Gunther snapped, looking over the portrait to make sure that it was not ruined in any way. He rolled it up swiftly and stuck into an empty space in his bag. He rose and headed towards the door. He grabbed the door knob and swung the door as wide as it would go. "Out," he commanded, pointing stiffly out the door.

Jane jumped up and ran out the door.

Jane was in the practice yard, swiping energetically at her dummy. She was thinking happily about the portrait she had seen. She imagined the beautiful lady in the picture standing next to the merchant and snorted. Quite loudly.

"Care to share the joke?" a boy who, by his apparel, was obviously a clown of some sort, asked, walking into the field.

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but stopped and turned as a large, green-scaled dragon with eyes the fiery color of Jane's hair swooped down and landed on the wall behind her. Just as well, too, because Gunther had just stepped out of the knight's quarters, whistling softly to himself as he stuffed a book back into his bag. Sir Ivan, Gunther's mentor, came out behind him and headed the opposite way into the stables.

"Hey Jane, what do you say we go for a quick ride?" the dragon asked in English, standing on its back legs and sliding a clawed hand forward.

"Not just now, Dragon," Jane said, smiling, and turned back. "Hello Gunther, how was your class?"

"Fine," Gunther replied. He stopped rummaging inside his bag suddenly. "Oh no!" He cried, looking up. "I forgot to pay the workers."

Jane raised her eyebrows as Gunther got down on his knees and placed his bag in front of him against the wall. He searched it frantically for a few moments then jumped to his feet. He turned and took off towards the castle entrance.

"I shall be right back!" he said turning his head. He spotted his bag. "Jane, could you kindly place my bag in the knightly quarters?"

"Of course!" Jane called back, cupping her hands around her mouth.

Gunther nodded and called, "Thanks!" before disappearing.

Jane walked over towards the bag and picked it up. She stood for a few seconds, then she squatted down and placed the bag back on the ground.

"Jane," the jester said from behind her. "I believe Gunther asked you to put the bag in the knightly quarters, not right back where it already was."

"I know Jester…" Jane said, opening the flap. "I just…"

Jester had appeared at her shoulder now. He opened his mouth slightly. "Erm, Jane, is it not against the knight's code of conduct to pry into the belongings of fellow knights?"

"Mm-hmm," Jane mumbled, finding the canvas and pulling it up an inch.

"Jane!" Jester said in alarm.

Jane turned and looked over her shoulder, left and right. Dragon had stretched out on top of the wall and was snoring. There was no one else in sight.

"You want to see something?" Jane whispered.

"As a matter of fact, I do not," Jester said, a hand covering his eyes.

Jane pulled out the canvas and unrolled it. She smiled. "It is Gunther's mother."

Jester's hand fell off his eyes, but to his credit, he quickly replaced it.

"Gunther just found it, I think. I am so glad that now everyone will know how she looked like."

"Gunther said you could show it to everyone?" Jester asked, frowning, hand still in place.

"Not me," Jane said. "But he brought it with him. I wonder if he has shown Sir Ivan and Sir Theodore yet."

Jester swiveled around as someone walked up behind them. It was Queen Gwendoline.

"Good evening, Jester, Jane," she said softly.

Jane turned.

The Queen raised her eyebrows slightly and bowed her head a little.

"Oh," Jane said, realizing how awkward she would be looking, squatting in front of a wall. She stood up and turned around. "We were just looking at this portrait—"

"'We' would not be the correct pronoun—" Jester said, taking a small step backward.

"—this portrait of Gunther's mother."

The Queen raised her head and looked questioningly at Jane.

Jane stretched the roll of canvas open and showed it to the Queen, beaming. The Queen looked at the portrait and turned around.

Jane lowered her hands and tilted her head slightly. Past the queen, she could see someone walking towards her.

"Good evening, your honor," Gunther said, coming to a halt a few feet away from them.

The queen shuffled slightly. "Good evening, to you as well, honorable Squire Gunther."

Gunther smiled somewhat proudly.

"What is that?" the Queen asked curiously.

Gunther looked up.

"There is something stuck on your hand…" the Queen said, bending very slightly and turning his hand palm up. Jester and Jane were peeking from behind her. A dried and pressed old flower had slipped into Gunther sleeve. Only the top of it was poking out, resting on his palm.

"How did that get there?" Gunther exclaimed in surprise.

The Queen pulled it out and examined it. "How indeed? These are said to be very rare, sadly, they are extremely beautiful."

"You may have it if you please, your majesty," Gunther said quickly. The queen shook her head and gave it back to him. Jane stepped forward, the canvas hanging from her hands. Gunther's eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself.

The queen looked down at Jane, then at Gunther. She smiled sadly. "I must see that the children are in bed," she said, bowed her head, and left.

Jane smiled.

"Jane what on earth were you thinking. _Do_ you have a brain?" Gunther burst out angrily.

Jane's smile vanished. Jester shook his head.

Gunther grabbed the painting.

"Careful!" Jane cried accidentally.

Gunther's face was red. He stormed past her and flung the hastily rolled canvas into his bag. He slipped the bag over his shoulder and turned to the other two, having calmed down a little.

"Jane, you might have wanted to ask before showing it to Jester," he said, apparently quite calmly and patiently, to his credit. He started walking away. "Please _do_ ask," he said in a rather strained voice, "before showing—it—to anyone else."

"Erm," Jane fiddled. "I did show it to someone else…to the Queen…" Jane looked up, feeling very ashamed. She had no earthly idea why Gunther would not want to show the portrait to anyone.

Gunther did not what to say to that. He supposed, of course, that there was no way his father could find out from the Queen that he had taken the portrait. He turned and kept going.

"It is all right," he said briskly as he left.

Jane watched him until he disappeared. She hung her head.

"What got into me? The code of conduct clearly says…" Jester was nodding in agreement. Jane sighed and bowed her head. "I am glad he did not mind _too_ much, but if _Sir Theodore_ had seen…" Jane shook her head and walked away to her tower.

Queen Gwendoline was rather subdued that night at dinner.

"And never again was heard

That beautiful and precious Golden Bird," Jester pulled a string on his lute as he ended his sad ballad.

Queen Gwendoline sniffed and dabbed a handkerchief at the corner of her eyes.

Jester stood up as the room filled with applause, and turned to the king. "Would your majesties like to hear another ballad?" The king nodded enthusiastically, but the Queen whispered softly:

"Thank you, but that would be all."

Jester leapt off the stage and left. The king looked slightly disappointed.

After ruminating for a long time after dinner, Queen Gwendoline came to a decision.

Jane was sitting on her bed in her tower, polishing her sword and humming 'Gather All Ye Knights.' She put the sword away and got up, stretching her arms. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Jane said to the door, dropping her arms. The door opened and the Queen walked in. Jane looked quite surprised, then very delighted.

"It is a pleasure to see you, your majesty. But if you wanted to meet me, you could have called for me. Please, have a—a seat," Jane looked around the extremely messy state of her room. There were clothes and books and stuffed animals all over the bed and floor. The mantle was all cluttered and her sword was placed less than carefully atop the chest that stood at the foot of her bed. Jane started to quickly remove things off her bed and throwing them under it. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to sit in Jane's room other than her bed, or the very hard wooden chair that went with her desk.

The Queen quietly stopped her. "It is alright, Jane, I merely wish to speak to you upon a small matter."

"No your majesty, it is quite alright," Jane's arms flew like strange tree branches.

"Jane, I insist."

Hearing her firm tone, Jane stopped and turned.

"Jane," the Queen said sadly. "About the portrait you showed me…"

"It was Gunther's, your majesty," Jane said, bowing her head.

"Yes…"

"It is a shame that we never got to meet her," Jane said, thoughtfully. "She seemed to be a very kind and gentle person."

"Kind and…familiar?" the Queen asked, cautiously. She had not at all expected that Jane might not have recognized her in the picture.

"Not really, she looks nothing like Gunther." Jane turned and smiled at the Queen. Her smile vanished. The Queen bowed her head.

"Yes Jane. The lady in the portrait stands before you. I thought you would have realized that when you first saw the portrait."

"Well then that is perfectly amazing!" Jane exclaimed. The Queen looked up and stared at her. "Gunther will get to meet his mother! Fancy that…but then, he has already met his mother." Jane chuckled. She stopped all of a sudden. A little too suddenly, and stumbled back against the bed, toppled over and fell on her pillows.

Queen Gwendoline stepped forward with concern.

"That means you were married to the merchant," Jane said, heaving herself back up. "How many surprises can the world hold?"

The queen bit her lip.

"So what happened?" Jane asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"I greatly disfavored Magnus's ways," the Queen said quietly. "I could not stand to live in a house bought with unfair money, eat food bought with unfair money, and wear clothes bought with unfair money." Jane looked very sympathetic.

"Your majesty, I—I am very sorry for you," she stood up and walked towards the queen.

"I would have loved to take Gunther back home with me," Queen Gwendoline said, looking sadly at Jane. "But Magnus said no. I suppose that he was trying to stop me from going. But stay I could not, and I left," she sighed and looked out the window. "I did miss him quite a lot. I still do. It is true that I do see him often, but it is not the same…"

"There is only one thing to do, your majesty," Jane said decidedly, standing up straight and looking straight into the queen's eyes. "And that is to tell Gunther."

_(My profile picture shows the portrait and Gunther's imagined version of his mother)_


End file.
